Harry Potter and the Time Snafu
by Lord Jeram
Summary: Harry has a little "accident" with a easily-swallowed Time-Turner. Yes, an "accident". Ultra crack.
1. It's not that difficult, honestly

**Temporal Indigestion**

Yes, it's been a while. For those who say there are no good ideas for fanfiction anymore, let me just say – you just need to think of a unique and creative story. This is not such a story.

Based on the stories by J K Rowling, but with an extremely biased twist or seven

_Lord Jeram Presents_

_A Harry Potter Adventure -_

_Harry Potter in:_

"Harry Potter and the Time Snafu"

----

_RIGHT BEFORE THE END OF HARRY'S FOURTH YEAR (I.e., Goblet of Fire)_

"Harry, will you be okay getting back to your relatives?" Hermione looked concerned. "After all, this isn't really the appropriate time for you to be alone."

Harry shrugged. "I assume Uncle Vernon will give me a ride, like he usually does – with an angry and annoyed look on his face. To be honest guys, I'll just be happy when I can relax for once."

"Um," Ron glanced back and forth between his friends. "You think you'll be able to relax? With..." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "You-Know-Who back and all?"

"Ron!" Hermione glared at the inconsiderate redhead. "I doubt Harry wishes to blather on about whatever horrific things he experienced, and I'll thank you not to bring it up."

"Calm down, Hermione," Harry said in a soothing tone. "I'll be all right eventually. Besides, I'll have plenty of time over the summer to think things over and settle my thoughts and everything."

"Time..." Hermione mumbled to herself. "Oh no! I forgot!"

Ron looked amused. "You forgot something? Harry, I think this must be another Polyjuiced imposter!"

Harry laughed despite himself.

"You shut your gob, Ron!" Hermione replied scathingly. "I cannot believe I forgot to return the Time-Turner... the Professor will expel me for sure!"

"The Time-Turner... you mean from last year?" Harry asked. "You still have it? Have you even used it this year? Hermione, you should've told me!"

Hermione looked miserably back at him. "Harry, I wasn't permitted to use it after third year – just I was supposed to return it ages ago at the start of the term, but with all the excitement, I completely forgot! I'm surprised Professor McGonnagal didn't say anything." She fished in her bag frantically for a minute, before breathing a sigh of relief.

"Here it is," she said lifting up the necklace.

"Wow, it looks so-" Harry started to say.

"Hey, let me see that," Ron said at the same time, trying to get a better look. But in his haste, Ron tripped on his own feet and smacked right into Harry, who tumbled forward into Hermione, knocking them both to the ground.

Chagrined, Ron quickly ran over to help his unintended victims to their feet. "You guys all right there?"

Hermione dusted herself off. "I'm fine, Ron – but... wait a minute, Harry, do you see the Time-Turner anywhere here? We couldn't have smashed it, it's supposed to be nearly impossible to do that."

Harry coughed and swallowed. He turned to Hermione, an ashen look on his face. "Um, Hermione – I think I may have swallowed it"

"What?" Hermione screeched and grabbed her hair. "Oh for the... bloody... Merlin's Pants! Harry, how could you?"

"Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, impressed at what was for Hermione, extreme levels of profanity.

Harry looked extremely worried. "So wait, what does this mean? Can Madame Pomfrey just get it out normally or however it's normally done?"

Hermione thought for a second and started to breathe in and out to steady herself. "I believe so, Harry. Just... just... try not to eat or do anything that might affect it!"

Harry burped.

"Oh, excuse me."

"You're excused. Now shove over and let me get some water." Ron nudged Harry a bit.

Harry looked around in bewilderment. "What in the... Ron, where did we go?"

"We took the Portkey to the campgrounds, remember? It wasn't that long ago... oh I see." Ron grinned knowingly and winked at Harry.

Harry looked around in stunned amazement. Astonishingly, it appeared that he had somehow landed in the past – somewhere in the middle of chapter seven. A completely expected sense of deja vu swept over Harry. The past... he had traveled to the past! As Harry began to remember his experiences from the last year, a sudden thought occurred to him – if he was in the past, did that mean he could change the future?

"I think I'm in the past, Ron!" Harry shook his bewildered compatriot. "The past! That means I can fix all the bloody mistakes I made this year. Merlin, where should I start?"

Ron's jaw dropped and he started to say something, but nothing apparently came to mind, as said jaw remained agape while Harry ran off in a random direction.

"I've gotta change the past... Gotta change the past. Gotta... wait, where am I going?" Harry checked back over his shoulder and saw Ron looking shell-shocked. "What's gotten into him? I better think for a second here... what exactly can I fix now? Oh, hey Cho." Harry waved absentmindedly to the surprised Ravenclaw, who hadn't expected a response.

"Um, hello," she offered tentatively.

"Wait a minute..." Harry's eyes widened. "Cho... The Ball! And this time, I won't ask too late." But Harry had never exactly been keen with the ladies, although he at least had the benefit of months of bad experiences not asking anyone out. On the other hand, how could he make things any worse? "Um, yes, hello there."

Harry attempted to smile, trying to squelch the encroaching nervousness. Damn, hadn't he just had a year of this nonsense? "Cho, it's um, great to see you. Here to see the Cup, right?"

Cho nodded, a slight red tinge on her face, but she looked pleased nonetheless. "That's right, Harry. Oh... uh, it's nice to see you as well."

Although Harry was simply awful at dealing with women, he noticed that Cho seemed just as nervous, which oddly enough, diminished Harry's own anxiety.

"Cho, listen, I don't know how much time I have," Harry said with a level of confidence that surprised even him. "But look – would you like to hang out after the Cup? I'm going to be in one of the boxes with the Weasleys," he explained, forgetting he wasn't supposed to know this yet. "Otherwise I'd sit with you." If he hadn't been in an incredible rush, Harry probably would've been shocked at his sheer cojones.

But it seemed to work, as Cho responded with: "Oh, that sounds fantastic, Harry, I'd love to," she said with a beaming smile, showing off surprisingly well-kept teeth. Perhaps her parents were also dentists.

A sudden, nagging thought occurred to Harry. "Great, so I guess you're not seeing anyone else, then?" This was a slightly rude, but to be honest, quite expected query.

"No, nobody serious," Cho replied with a grin that seemed to say "for now". But Harry was never good at dealing with women, or reading their expressions – the girl he knew the best was Hermione, so he assumed that Cho (as a Ravenclaw, and therefore with similar values to Hermione) must've just thought of a great book she had just remembered to read. Great. Good for her.

"So you said you're here with the Weasleys?" Cho asked.

Harry's stomach gurgled, and he looked down. Wait...

Harry burped.

"Hermione... look at you!" Ron looked gobstopped, a pretty good look for him. It took attention away from his actual facial features.

"Oh, Ron, I can't believe you."

Harry glanced around and reared back in shock. He had somehow jumped a bit into the future, right at the beginning of chapter twenty three. But that meant...

"Harry, you should really say something," Cho whispered in his ear. "Those two could embarrass themselves."

Yup. Harry was just in time to attend the horrible Yule Ball again. But this time... could it be? Had he really changed the past with a few ill-timed words and bumbling attempts to ask Cho out? Yes, yes, he had. Although Harry didn't realize that his timing at the Cup had been nearly perfect, as it had been nearly immediately prior to Cedric asking Cho out in the original book (which was never shown, naturally). Cho was the sort of girl to fall completely for the guy to ask her out first – but don't ask me to explain any further, you perverts.

Harry looked in amazement at his date, who seemed to be wearing some sort of gauzy, girly thing that seemed to accentuate her lithe form in all the right places – and astoundingly, managed to give her some sort of cleavage. Harry felt like Madame Malkin or whoever had clearly designed this dress with him in mind... wait, that didn't come out quite right. So Harry stammered a bit as he said, "Wow, Cho, you look really, really... good." Harry wasn't that great at adjectives either.

But Cho blushed anyway, and smiled despite the awfully worded compliment. "Thanks Harry, you do too. But you don't have to keep saying that." Her eyes, though, seemed to say "Please continue." Harry read that incorrectly as "I'm wearing some sort of sexy dress", although to be fair, he was pretty damn distracted.

Just as Harry had ignored his date the first time, he now completely ignored everyone else, feeling particularly proud of himself. He had changed the past! In your face, time, he thought to himself. Now all I need to do is figure out what I'm actually supposed to do, Harry mused. He had never taken any sort of sexual education, and his exposure to romance was limited to very bad books he had managed to fish out of the trash after Petunia had "finished" them.

"Um, should I... damn it what do they always say," Harry scrambled to find the right words as he somehow managed to dance without stepping on his date's feet.

Cho looked extremely worried at Harry's odd musings, but perhaps she also felt a bit... excited? Apprehensive? A combination of the two?

You'll just have to use your imagination.

"I think I would like to... ravish you, is that right?" Harry honestly didn't remember what this word meant, but he felt reasonably certain it had something to do with snogging of some sort. Unfortunately, the best parts of the used romance books had always been mysteriously "water damaged", so he always missed how things "climaxed", if you'll pardon the very bad pun.

Cho was a pretty smart girl, in Ravenclaw, and a year ahead of Harry. And she was also not an idiot. However, in this way, she was a bit stupid – because she thought Harry actually knew what he was asking. It didn't really matter, as Cho was the sort of girl to give it up to the first guy she liked who had the guts to ask. I'm not elaborating any further.

Harry just happened to be first – this time.

"I think we can sneak out, if we're careful," Cho said with a nervous giggle. "I know a place we can go – the Ravenclaw locker rooms, no one will be there." This turned out not to be true, but how could Cho know that Roger Davies was passed out after disappointing Fleur with a particularly early and disappointing performance... on the dance floor, you animals. But later on, he would remember that night quite a bit differently – but he had his ego to protect after all. And still later, Bill would... but I'm getting ahead of myself.

So Harry and Cho sneaked off to the locker rooms, preparing for what Harry assumed would be some sort of kissing – although to be honest, Harry never really got the appeal of what seemed to amount to just mashing lips together. That's all snogging was, after all, right? Yes, Harry was a naive idiot.

But it didn't take long for Harry to realize how much of an idiot he had been, and he soon began to comprehend that there was an entire world of possibilities out there. Fantastic, fantastic worlds of fantastic... damn, didn't expect... oh, that's what they mean by... For you see, Cho was the sort of girl who would go – I'm not finishing that sentence. Unfortunately, it was not to last, as soon...

Harry burped.

Harry looked around, only to find himself surrounded by what appeared to be first-year versions of his classmates. Apparently he had landed in the first book, probably somewhere in chapter twelve, or thirteen, or WHO REALLY GIVES A ... "Oh BLOODY HELL!" Harry cursed vehemently. "That was... ergh..." Harry had never quite had such a annoying experience in his entire life. And he was now, quite understandably, really really ticked off.

"Um, Harry, are you okay there?"

Harry whirled angrily, fire in his eyes. The frightened girl took a step back in surprise. Harry sighed, calming down. It wasn't this girl's fault... the girl who was... hey, she looked a bit familiar... Of course, Harry knew who the girl was...

"Susan, I apologize. It is Susan right?" Harry was really hoping it wasn't a honest mistake. But his luck had turned yet again, this time to the positive side.

"Yes, that's right Harry," Susan Bones said with a tentative smile, always quick to forgive, especially for the great Harry Potter. A bit short, but that would change eventually, and Susan wasn't exactly a Nordic Amazon. Yet. Of course, Susan had no idea the proportions she would soon grow into, as the photos of her mother had never been that flattering. But her shyness would have overshadowed her potential confidence, and it would take years for her to even think about thinking about boys.

Except that this time, things had gone a bit differently. Butterfly effect and all that. But I'm getting ahead of myself again.

"You know, Susan, we've never really talked," Harry offered in a friendly fashion. This was true, but was also kind of expected for shy, awkward, and cliquish first years – of which Harry had forgotten he was one of at the moment. "Why don't you tell me something about yourself?" Harry had also forgotten about his little Time-Turner "problem".

"Well," Susan started, a bit nervously. "I'm in Hufflepuff, which I think you knew right?"

Harry nodded, actually sort of remembering that fact.

"Um, my best friend is Hannah Abbott... I like Herbology. Uh, my Auntie is Head of the Aurors. I like cooking." Susan was prattling on like a nervous little girl, which, incidentally, she was at the moment.

Harry frowned, not sure if Susan was okay. Wait, did she say Head of the Aurors? Weren't they sort of the Wizarding police or soldiers or something? This nice moment was not to last, as soon...

Harry burped.

Harry looked around, surprised by the sudden change, although he had the wits to at least try not to look conspicuous as he examined his surroundings.

It turned out he didn't really need to worry too much, as he had inadvertently stumbled in book six, right smack in the middle of chapter twenty three, where Dumbledore was just about to say:

"And so you see, Harry, Voldemort intended these Horcruxes to help him live forever. I realized the diary seemed to be a bit too powerful back in your second year, but it was only recently that I figured out its true connection to Voldemort."

Harry boggled at this – which went unnoticed by the pontificating Dumbledore, but someone else in the office paid very careful attention...

END OF PART ONE

Well, after about 2500 words, I realized I wasn't actually done yet – so I'm splitting it up, and I'll post the next part soon. And the next part is actually a bit crazier than this one, so be forewarned that a fraction of my true insanity will soon emerge.

-J


	2. Time Travel is a Crazy Business, Harry

Temporal Indigestion

Part Two:

"Time Travel is a Crazy Business, Harry"

_WHEN WE LAST LEFT Harry, he had done a little bit of the following:_

_Harry enjoyed the terrible and embarrassing events of book four, but then, in a shocking plot twist, he swallowed a Time Turner, causing him to spiral through the fabric of time itself, first to the Quidditch Cup, forward to the ill-fated Yule Ball, back again (cough) to his first year, and finally smashing into his sixth year, right in one of his relevant plot-important discussions with the Headmaster regarding Voldemort's quest for immortality. Where will Harry jump to next? Let's find out shall we, and join Harry as he quite intelligently says:_

"Huh?" Harry shook his head to clear the sudden cobwebs. Voldemort? Immortality? Horcruxes? Voldemort? Dumbledore? The diary? Harry was a bit lost, to put it mildly. He breathed in deeply, listening carefully to Dumbledore's convoluted explanation of Voldemort's "Horcrux" quest, waiting for a moment where he might ask a question of clarification.

But alas, Albus was on a roll.

"Multifarious maleficence, Harry! Immortal immolation!" Albus shook his fist in righteous fury. "Desperate decadence! Floo! Dumbledore!" The Headmaster had gotten so caught up in his tirade, he had stopped saying sentences with any meaning. This was actually quite normal for Dumbledore, but nobody ever figured this out, as the Headmaster was always careful to Obliviate his listening audience every time.

Harry thought frantically, his thoughts jumbled and disordered. He needed a plan, a way to find out where and when he was – and perhaps even to attempt to understand the nonsense Dumbledore was spouting. Perhaps, Harry pondered to himself, I should use my Slytherin side to deal with this tense situation. Harry then immediately discarded this idea, as he realized that it not only made no sense, it was also too ridiculous a concept to even put into words or thoughts. And yet...

Trying his best to pay attention to Dumbledore, Harry allowed himself to get lost in a fantasy of a Slytherin Harry, a Harry where everyone didn't know your name...

"_Shut your ugly face, Slytherharry! I hate your face, I hate your wand, I hate your stupid, stupid name, and most of all, I HATE-" A furious Draco yelled, his precious robes in tatters and his wand broken in two and shoved in his ears. Draco was then quite dead a moment later._

"_Ah..." Harry sighed in contentment. "This is the life. The Slytherin life. Or so I assume. Filled with excitement, brand new names, and dead Dracos."_

"Potter... snap out of it you young idiot... Potter!"

Harry stiffened instantly in his seat, and jerked in surprise. Who had said that? It was almost like... someone had spoken in his head... But that was impossible, no one and nothing had ever done that, with one exception.

With growing horror, Harry's eyes crept over to the nearby desk, where the ratty old Hat sat with a stupid, smug grin on its hideous, ugly face. That worthless piece of fabric grinned toothlessly, seemingly echoing the sentiment of "I know a lot more than you, merely because I'm unfathomably old and I can read people's minds and souls, etc". Naturally, this may be have been true, but really, it was just a coincidence.

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but a sudden mental "nudge" forestalled his reply.

"Not out loud, you young fool," the Hat said inside Harry's head. "Just Think it to me. Try it, you probably are capable of such a thing, inexperienced you may be."

Harry focused, closing his eyes in deep concentration, and tried to follow the Hat's instructions, attempting to "think" at the floppy head covering. "Can you hear me, Professor Hat?" Harry asked as politely as he could.

"I'm hardly a Professor, Potter," the Hat said inside Harry's head. "And open your eyes before Albus notices!"

Panicked, Harry opened his eyes and nodded at the Headmaster's latest question.

"Harry," Albus intoned solemnly. "I feel it behooves me to inform you that I am worried about you. I know the prophecy must be 'getting you down', as I understand it is said these days. Yes, only you or the 'Dark Lord can live while the other survives', as the prophecy stated, but you must consider the source! A crazy, batty, old fraud. And now Harry, please sit still, I have an important spell to cast."

The Headmaster had just about crazytalked himself out, and realized that Harry needed his memory modified. It was one thing to think of Dumbledore as a little barmy, that wasn't so bad, but flat out wall to the groin bonkers? Dumbledore needed to protect his precious image, and if a few minds got Obliviated along the way? All for the greater good.

The Hat looked alarmed and coughed loudly, distracting both Harry and Dumbledore.

The Headmaster looked suspiciously back at the Hat. "You have something to say, Sorting Hat? I do not recall you ever interrupting me at any point." Dumbledore stopped to ponder the oddness. Could a Hat be Obliviated? Did it even matter?

"A sherbet lemon, Potter," the Hat thought at Harry. "Quickly now, before it's too late! Albus has no idea what he might do if he tried to Obliviate you now!"

"Obliviate me?" Harry thought in a panic. "Why would he do that?"

"I'll explain later, Potter... that is, I'll explain earlier... oh bloody hell, Potter, just swallow the blasted lemon right now!"

Obliging, Harry reached over and popped the sour treat into his mouth.

"BOO!" The Hat shouted suddenly in Harry's head, causing him to swallow the candy.

Harry coughed and looked at the Hat in astonishment. But then, a miracle happened!

Harry burped.

"Back off, Snivellus, or we'll shove your wand so far up your bum you'll be shooting sparks out of your nose!" A young, vaguely Harry Potterish looking boy was yelling at what appeared to be a large pillar of grease.

Harry was shocked. Dumbledore's office had been rather dark and mysterious, and the sudden shift to a bright, sunny day was a bit off-putting to young Harry. Not to mention that the odd nature of the candy and the Time-Turner had caused a slightly unexpected twist to the story… but I'll get to that in a few lines of dialogue or so. "Where am I?" Harry wondered aloud foolishly.

The gang of miscreants and their intended victim whirled at the sudden sound.

"Hey, Prongs, he looks like your little brother," the annoying one said with a smirk. "Who is the little bastard?"

"Now wait just a minute," Harry said indignantly. "Just because I'm shorter than average doesn't mean my parents weren't married, you... you... Malfoy!" Considering how terrible Harry was at insults, this was probably one of his meanest. Of course, the targets didn't quite get it.

"Malfoy?" The ragged (somewhat "lupine", if you will) blonde boy asked inquiringly. "The Slytherin a few years ahead of us? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Shut your mouth, you monster!" The grease pillar shouted, to Harry's astonishment. The pillar could talk! How adorable!

"Aw, look at you," Harry said with a beaming smile, completely throwing the young greasy Slytherin off guard. "And hey, you have a wand and everything!"

Now, you may be wondering if Harry had perhaps been dropped on his head as an infant, as he seemed unable to recognize what by now you have cleverly realized are the young Marauders and Snivellus Snape. The answer, of course, is yes – what did you expect? In fact, Harry had also been dropped on the head many times as a small child and even a bit as a slightly larger one. He had no memory of any this, which probably seems like quite a shock.

Harry also was hallucinating from the drugged sherbert lemon, which was not intended to be swallowed all at once. But sadly for our time displaced hero, his euphoric trip was about to end with a unpleasant jolt.

"What's wrong with him, James?" The rat-like one asked the popular one.

"I'm not sure, Wormtail," James responded.

"He looks like he's taken too many Calming potions or something," the wolfish one pointed out.

Wait a minute... Harry's head snapped up, everything coming into focus. Wormtail? Harry looked at the young Peter Pettigrew and for an instant, Harry could see the resemblance.

"Wormtail, I'll kill you!" Harry lunged at the surprised traitor-to-be and knocked him to the ground. He laid into the poor traitor with angry fists and many, many kicks to the groin. Wormtail would not be propagating his genetic material anytime soon, if you catch my drift.

The other Marauders pulled Harry off Wormtail and tossed him to the side.

James walked over angrily to Harry and pulled out his wand. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't curse your balls off right now, oddball!"

Harry's jaw dropped. Could it be? He'd recognize that angry face anywhere – his dear old Dad. Harry was just about to jump up and give his dear old dad a big, friendly hug when he stopped to think for a second. Yes, it was about damn time.

If he had truly jumped to the past, perhaps it wouldn't be the best idea to interfere so early – who knows, Harry might even accidentally erase himself from existence all together! A terrifying thought.

But Harry was saved by the intervention of a red-headed angel.

"Potter! Who are you bullying this time?" A vision in red hair appeared, glaring at Harry's father.

Harry looked at the beautiful older girl, feeling odd but faintly intrigued.

James dropped his wand and smiled widely at the girl. "My dear Lily Evans, we were merely informing this daft young lad that St. Mungo's is open at all hours and is ready and waiting to receive him."

Sirius laughed. "He does seem a bit addled, doesn't he? Weird looking bugger."

James frowned. "Watch it, Black, he's not that odd-looking. Just clearly not all there."

Lily harrumphed loudly. "Stop that at once, Potter! Can't you see he's not the brightest of bulbs?"

Sirius scratched his head. "Bulbs?"

"Hey, that's not very nice, Mum," Harry said. "You always said I was smart!"

Lily turned her angry gaze at her once and future son. "What did you call me?" Her eyes widened. "Wow, you really do look like Potter, don't you? Are you related?"

Realizing his slipup, Harry grinned sickly. "Um, why, not at all, of course! I've never even met the dad- fellow. Fellow. I've never even met the fellow."

Fed up, James sheathed his wand. "Enough of this foolishness. It's almost time for class and I don't care about Snivellus or the new little wanker. Let's go."

He trotted off quickly, the other Marauders falling in line behind him.

Lily walked over to Harry and Snape with a concerned, but wary look on her face. "Are you two all right, then? I mean, they didn't do anything, did they?"

"Nope," Harry grinned. "In fact, I kicked that bloody Wormtail…" Harry growled as he said the name. "Right between his legs. Wormtail…" Harry growled again. Lily looked a bit disconcerted at this.

"We don't need your help, Evans," Snape spat. "Or the help of your kind!"

Lily stood, her Harry Potter-esque green eyes alight with fury. "Fine, then! Be that way!" She stormed off, her legendary Weasley temper getting the best of her. Wait… that didn't sound quite right.

Harry sighed and plopped down next to the confused Snape. "You know, Snivellus," Harry said in a friendly tone. "James seems like a bit of an arse, doesn't he?"

"What?" Snape sputtered. "It's… not that… name, you… you… It's Severus, you, uh, idiot!"

Harry laughed. "Come on, now Snivellus, I know that can't be your real name." Harry was quite sure of this – after all, what kind of stupid name was Severus?"

"Seriously, though, Snivellus," Harry said seriously. "I apologize for James – maybe you should find a girl of your own, eh?"

Snape looked at Harry askance. "What are you blathering about you malignant pustule?"

Harry nodded, not having any idea what most of those words meant. "Right, so what about that Narcissa Malfoy? She's probably a looker in the past, which means now, right?"

"Narcissa? You mean Narcissa Black? I suppose she is somewhat comely… in a wan, vain sort of manner." Snape frowned thoughtfully. "But it matters not, she would not be interested in one such as I."

"Don't be so down on yourself, Snivellus!" Harry smacked Snape on the back hard. "You deserve at least three times as much happiness as Lucius Malfoy! And if you and Narcissa get together – that could mean… no more Draco! Just think of it." Harry allowed himself once again to get lost in a fantasy…

"_Harry, aren't you worried about Malfoy?" Ron asked worriedly._

"_Nope, Ron, cause he doesn't exist, remember?" Harry grinned widely._

_Ron laughed. "I forgot! Thanks for changing the past, Harry. Thanks a bunch."_

"It's not Sniv… oh, never mind," Snape had decided to ignore Harry's unintentional insulting usage of his most hated appellation. Because honestly, it wasn't worth the energy. "Draco… that's not such a bad name."

"Shut your filthy GOB, Severus," Harry spat using what he thought was a terrible insult. He then instantly mellowed. "I'm sure Narcissa would just love you to pieces if you just hexed Lucius or something. Don't Slytherins value cunning or evil or something?"

Snape considered this and stroked his malformed chin. "I suppose… I do have a few spells I've invented I know he can't yet block."

"You've invented spells?" Harry asked in shock. "That's great! So just go and neuter Malfoy, and I'll forget everything nasty you've ever said to me. Deal?"

"Um… I suppose so," Snape answered slowly. The deal seemed too good to be true, and a Slytherin always took those odds. "Yes, yes, I'll do it!" Snape clenched his fist and snarled in a friendly fashion, the epitome of Slytherin chic. "That arrogant Malfoy won't see it coming! Then comeuppance shall be mine!"

"Ha!" Harry crowed triumphantly. Another blow for the amazing Time-Smashing Harry Potter. Now all he had to do was get back to the future.

Harry coughed and choked a bit, trying to forcibly self-burpify. Snape looked at him with alarm. But it seemed to work, as Harry could feel "something" rippling through him.

"Just… remember one thing, Snivellus," Harry rasped out. "In the future don't forget to…"

Harry burped.

"Hurry, now, Potter!"

Harry started, startled. Snivel- sorry, Severus Snape glowered down at him from his comfortable place in book number six.

"If you don't want anyone to know about our Occlumency lessons, you had better hurry it up. I'm sure Drakon is quite curious, and I don't like lying to him."

Harry scratched his head in befuddlement. It didn't look like Snape had changed much at all. Same greasy hair, same greasy, glowery demeanor. But wait a tic… Drakon? Drakon? Could it be? Could Drakon, er, that is, Draco have been erased from history altogether?

Harry huzzahed preemptively in his head. Things might just be looking up. Of course, if Harry had any notion of what was about to happen, he may just have cried – or cheered louder, depending on your perspective.

END OF PART TWO

Next time on _Harvey Potsler and the Temporal Digestive Tract_:

"Harry, just decide between us, or we'll hex your nuts off!"

Harry didn't quite know whether to cheer or cry (see?).


	3. Silly Muggle, Time Travel’s for Wizards

Damn, I just realized. I'm one of those authors, aren't I? The ones who write something, then wait months to continue, citing "real life" concerns. I guess that's all I can say. Here's part three:

Temporal Indigestion

Part Three:

"Silly Muggle, Time Travel's for Wizards"

_AS WE FINALLY (SWEET MERLIN, IT'S BEEN FAR TOO LONG) RETURN TO SEE OUR EPONYMOUS HERO, Harry had experienced a tad of the following:_

_After swallowing a conveniently small Time-Turner, Harry finds himself careening through the Fabric of TIME ITSELF. If you can believe such a thing. So Harry finds himself feeling up Cho at a Yule Ball here, planting the seeds with Susan Bones there, and topping it off with some mysterious business with the Headmaster – who just might be thinking of Obliviating Our Hapless Hero. Horrific, innit? But luckily, a stroke of serendipity! Professor Sorting Hat has Harry swallow a not entirely drug-free lemon drop, causing him to break through the VERY FABRIC OF HIS OWN MORTAL TIMELINE. Where he winds up annoying the Marauders and somehow befriending a befuddled Snivellus Snape – ah, but here's where things get interesting: because Harry has managed to convince Snape to get together with the "comely but wan" Narcissa Black. Talk about a match made in Azkaban! Or perhaps a better pun instead. So, let us all sit back and enjoy watching in bemused detachment as Harry says:_

"So, um, Professor Snape, is it?" Harry wasn't quite sure as to the extent of the effects of his madcap adventures through TIME ITSELF (those words just feel like capital letters, don't you agree?). So Draco was now Drakon – or maybe he wasn't. AND WHAT IF: Snape somehow had gone back from his proper British name of Snivellus to the bizarrely American "Severus"? Harry couldn't hold back a shudder at the thought of such a terribly stupid name afflicted even to his old buddy and enemy Snape. Nobody deserved to be called "Severus" – not even Voldemort himself.

Snape looked back at Harry with a confused expression.

Suddenly Harry realized something

"Professor! Your… your hair!" Harry's mouth hung open in shock.

Snape looked a bit worried at this odd outburst.

"It's… slightly less greasy! Could it be? Did you hook up with Narcissa after all?"

Snape held his temple and groaned in an exasperated tone. "Potter. Shut up. You know very well Narcissa and I have been having some minor… issues lately. She insists on coddling Drakon, whereas I know… but I'm not getting into that with you, Potter. Now sit down!"

Harry sat. Then Harry asked a question. "What am I doing here Professor Snape?"

"Occlumency lessons, Potter? Surely you haven't forgotten that already. The Dark Lord can't have addled your brains so soon."

Harry frowned and rubbed his chin in a thoughtful manner. "So what is this mysterious Occlumency, anyway?"

"What? It protects your mind, you numbskull. Have you forgotten everything I've taught you?"

Harry smiled and shrugged. There was only one answer he could give. "'Fraid so, Professor. Guess Voldemort screwed up my brain but good!" Harry had no idea how this could actually happen, of course, but he figured Snape would get it. And by a freak coincidence, he did!

"Very well, Potter. Then let's start from the beginning… again." Snape looked somewhat pleased at this, perhaps because he enjoyed Potter humbled and stupid. Nah, couldn't be, he was probably recalling his favorite joke (What's the difference between a first year Gryffindor and a pile of excrement? One smells horrible and is waste that needs to be cleaned up – and the other is a pile of excrement! Hilarious, Snape. You've outdone yourself yet again).

What followed was a well, to be quite frank, brilliant explanation of both the theory and practice of Occlumency presented in under twenty minutes time (get it? TIME? Perhaps the joke is a bit belabored here. Terribly sorry.). Snape may indeed be a bloody annoying git of the highest order, but he was pretty bloody smart when he needed to be. Harry understood it all and mastered it extremely effectively to the point where Snape was actually a touch surprised.

Yes, this lecture was wondrous beyond all measure, and if ever heard or read, would instantly provide life-changing insights even to the most unmagical Muggle. Unfortunately I don't quite remember how it goes. Ah well, moving on.

"Well, um, good work, Potter," Snape managed to say. Snape didn't like admitting it, but Harry Potter had managed to both simultaneously impress and depress him. "I can't actually view your memories at all, and you've managed to somehow marginally recover from what is apparently very long-standing brain damage. Don't know why I never noticed it before."

"My brain does feel better, Professor, thank you." Harry offered graciously. Now Harry was not a sudden Ravenclaw or anything so ridiculous, but he had managed to get some long lost wits about him. Hey, Harry. Good work. I'd like to say you deserve it – so I will. You deserve it, Harry Potter.

"Now, we actually have some time." Snape realized. "Perhaps we can go over some advanced spellwork. You might be capable of achieving some level of adequate competence," Snape added begrudgingly.

"Great and fantastic!" Harry exclaimed.

Harry burped.

The smell was what did it. Did you know that Muggle scientists have said that humans remember events more strongly when connected by smell than any other sense? It's probably true that I've heard that. So Harry realized exactly where and when he was (book two, chapter seventeen) and didn't actually need to see the Basilisk to realize it was there.

"Oh, Crapwarts!" Harry cursed. The scaly behemoth twisted toward the now startled and a bit scared Harry. But the sight of that snake, huge though it may be, provided Harry with a sudden bit of luck. "Don't kill me!" Harry hissed in sudden and unintentional Parseltongue. The Basilisk paused.

"Wait, did you say DON'T kill you?" It hissed in confusion. The great beast glanced back at a now completely off guard Horcrux-Riddle Ghost and blinked in surprise. "Say, compared to this one, you aren't all there are you, Slytherin Heir?"

Harry realized he had not a moment to lose. "_Accio_ Diary!" The Diary flew through the air, and Harry quickly Banished it at the Basilisk's gaping mouth, who bit down on it reflexively.

Riddle looked astonished. "Nooooo!" He protested as he faded away into nothingness.

"Oh great, now what?" The Basilisk asked.

Harry frowned. He hadn't actually thought it through that far. "Why don't you, uh, go feast on the Acromantulas in the Forest?" Harry suggested mildly.

The Basilisk actually managed to look thoughtful. "Little speaker, that's just crazy enough to work!"

Harry laughed.

The Basilisk laughed (well, hissed really).

Harry gave the Basilisk a friendly hug (avoiding the gaze, of course). It looked like he had made a new giant, scaly friend. The Basilisk turned away suddenly, and a sudden bit of acidic steam arose from the ground.

"Say, you're not crying, are you?" Harry grinned knowingly.

"Uh, no," The Basilisk sputtered (quite impressive to hear it in hisses). "Just got a bit of something in my eye. Dust. That's it, dust."

Harry blinked back a sudden wetness of his own. Really, the Basilisk was just like his other friend, Ron. They both could consume their weights in cattle hourly, and they were both misunderstood. Ron wasn't the stupid moron who cared only for Qudditch everyone thought – no, he was just a lonely soul who wanted a friend. And it was the same for the monstrous snake. The Basilisk wasn't a terrible monster out to kill muggleborns – it was just lonely as well. Slytherin and Riddle just ordered it about. But Harry, well, you know how Harry is.

Always bloody getting involved, Harry is. Should've predicted it by now, I suppose.

"What's your name?" Harry asked.

The Basilisk blinked in surprise. "I believe I am called 'The Basilisk'." It replied.

Harry nodded. It was a fine name, indeed. "I'm Harry Potter. A pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise." The Basilisk agreed. "Say, want to go for a ride and watch me kill some giant spiders?"

Harry leapt up in joy. "Do I ever! Let's show those bloody arachnids who's boss!"

The Basilisk felt an odd sense of joy and fulfillment. Was this… happiness? Satisfaction? It looked like the beginning of a magical friendship.

_A Boy and His Giant, Monstrous, Horrific Snake_

_By Harry Potter and The Basilisk_

_Harry was a sad, lonely, little boy, who had been raised by fools, and hardly ever snogged a fetching young lass. The Basilisk was a millennia old freak of nature who had never had a true friend._

_Together, they shared both kills and laughs._

_Apart, they were nothing but a Boy-Who-Lived and a Ruthless Killing Machine. But once joined, they fit like two pieces of a two-piece puzzle. And the puzzle was a picture of a boy riding a Basilisk. That's like a double metaphor or something._

_Onward, Harry and Basilisk – GO!_

It would be quite a fun night.

A few hours later, Harry curled up next to his new friend and yawned mightily.

"That was impressive," hissed The Basilisk.

Harry chuckled. "Thanks."

At this point in the story you may be wondering if Harry has forgotten all about Ginny, who had been in significant danger of perishing due to the efforts of the Riddle-Ghost Horcrux. I'm afraid that, as usual, you are quite correct. No, she's not dead (sorry to disappoint you). But she was in a coma of sorts, and yes, this would cause some other changes down the line. I think you see where this one's going. So I won't spoil it for you.

As Harry prepared to drift off to a well-earned slumber, he felt a rumbling in his abdomen.

"Oh, that's right. Forgot about that." Harry realized, remembering all at once.

"Forgot what?" The Basilisk inquired sleepily.

Harry burped.

Harry shook his head ruefully. What a crazy adventure, eh? Harry found the whole thing quite a lot more fun now that he had mastered Occlumency and befriended The Basilisk. It looked like things were on their way up, right? Right?

"I'll see you at dinner, Harry," Hermione said to Harry. "We had a good session today."

"Thanks?" Harry said in an unconvincing manner. "You did quite well too?"

Hermione looked surprised, but then she smiled. "Thanks, Harry. Oh, and I think Susan had a question for you."

"Oh, all right, thanks Hermione." Harry looked around the mysterious room he had no knowledge of. Apparently he had landed in the fifth book – probably somewhere chapter twenty-oneish… but let's be honest, here, things have already changed quite a bit. Why, the events of chapter twenty-six may very well have occurred instead in CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO. I couldn't begin to imagine it. Firenze in St. Mungo's? PREPOSTEROUS.

"Harry, you were magnificent today."

Harry turned at the familiar voice to see something quite… unexpected. Susan Bones, now quite a bit older (fifth book, after all), was stretching, her… lovely… low-cut… shirt quite obviously pushed out right next to what Harry imagined was his face. Although at the moment he was actually three feet away… still seriously, can you blame him?

"Susan... did you… when did you get… the… stuff I sent you?" Sounds bad, but Harry was actually able to be this legible only thanks to his Occlumency Mastery. I think we all know what he'd sound like otherwise (Like Ron).

Susan smiled and walked in what can only be described as a sashay over to Harry. "You've been a great friend all these years, Harry. Even if I was disappointed with the Yule Ball."

"The Yule Ball? Didn't you... have some sort of a date? The Ball?"

Susan shrugged as she put her arms around Harry's shoulders. "Yeah, but I would've told him to bugger off. You know, it's not easy getting you away from Cho. I think she's getting suspicious."

Harry blinked as this began to process, his brain starting up again. Did she say…?

"Oh, is she? That's not good, is it?"

"You're bloody right it's not!"

Susan whitened and released Harry. She smiled in a faltering manner (hey, Puffs are loyal, not brave! Give her a break!). "Cho, um, great to see you!"

Harry noted that Cho did not exactly look pleased, and seemed to not quite believe Susan. He wasn't sure if he believed it himself.

"Enough of this nonsense, Harry. You've been sneaking off with Little Miss Pulchritude far too often. Don't think I haven't noticed!"

Susan pouted in confusion. Hey, Puffs are loyal, not smart! So her vocabulary isn't as good as yours. Give her a break.

"You've got to make a choice, Harry," Cho said slowly.

Susan straightened and her eyes narrowed. "You know, she's right. I don't really care to be the 'other woman', just the 'woman'."

"Oh, you're a woman, now?" Cho sniped.

"At least I look like one," Susan snapped back.

"Oh, hell," Harry said insightfully. "Can't we postpone this a bit while I process all this?"

"I don't think so," Susan said, getting a bit angry. "What, you think I'm just a scarlet woman or something? I won't accept that from you."

"Harry, just decide between us, or we'll hex your nuts off!"

Harry didn't quite know whether to cheer or cry (callback!).

Harry did not burp.

END OF PART THREE

Next time on _Harvey Potsler and the Temporal Digestive Tract_:

"Merlin's Pants?"

"Merlin's Pants."


	4. That Old Sinking Feeling

Yes, I know it's been a billion years. And yes, I know it's short – but it's just a crackfic, after all

Temporal Indigestion  
Part Four:

"That Old Sinking Feeling"

_Previous, Harry had frustratingly endured some of the following:_

_Harry was smashing his way through time, as per usual, when he made a few brief stops to master Occlumency at the hands of a slightly less greasy Snape and then become fast friends with the Ancient Monstrous Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. But then, Harry jumps forward to the Room of Requirement, right after a DA meeting, and discovers he has been cheating on Cho with Susan Bones. And oh, hello Cho! Did you hear all that? Let's shudder in sympathetic terror and join Harry as he sputters:

* * *

_

"Now, now, ladies," Harry sputtered. "I'm sure we can come to some sort of reasonable solution where everyone's happy. Let's just take a step back and figure out how we got to this situation."

Cho snorted. "Oh, as if it's that difficult. Susan has been practically throwing herself at you for ages. I just assumed you weren't reciprocating, but perhaps I had been foolish indeed."

"You're just a fling," Susan retorted. "Harry knows that he has true love with me."

"True Love?" Cho repeated sarcastically. "You are _such _a little girl."

"Shut up you old hag!" Susan screamed.

"Now hold on just a minute!" Harry interjected, although he was somewhat curious to see the two fight - but that probably wouldn't have ended well... Right? No, probably not.

Harry sighed dramatically, getting a germ of an idea. "I don't know how this happened, but I assumed you both knew about each other. I actually thought you were coordinating so we could each have time."

The two girls looked quite shocked.

"Are you just trying to cover?" Cho asked, although she sounded just a bit unsure.

Yes, that's it, Harry. Now reel them in, you clever dog, you.

Harry scoffed and chuckled. "As if I could fool you two."

Both girls couldn't help but like that particular comment.

Now Harry put on his very best sad face and turned away from them. "But I suppose, if neither of you want to keep this going, I'll understand. And here I thought we were just about ready to bring on someone new."

Oh, honestly Harry. They aren't going to fall for that one. Quit while you're ahead, won't you?

"Wait a moment, Harry," Cho grabbed Harry's arm and turned him around. She then looked at him with a bit of a calculated expression. "Who are you thinking about asking to, um, join with this arrangement?"

"Is it someone I know?" Susan asked in curiosity. It seemed her Hufflepuff love of sharing was overriding her jealousy. Very good luck, Harry. Suspiciously good, if you ask me. "Is it Hannah?"

"Um, well, there are a few possibilities," Harry answered vaguely, not having honestly expected any of this to work. "Sure, she's someone I've considered."

"Another Hufflepuff?" Cho shook her head. "If we're to have any sort of balance, we need a Slytherin."

Susan scowled. "That's ridiculous. There aren't even any attractive Slytherins in either of our years."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Cho smirked. "I can think of one. I assume you know whom I mean, Harry?"

"Yes, of course I do," Harry lied boldly, willing to agree to just about anything at this point. "And I think it's a smashing idea. Would you like to broach the subject with her?"

"Why don't Susan and I both talk to her?" Cho suggested with a wicked grin. "Together, I'd imagine we can be rather _persuasive_."

"Ooh, all right!" Susan bounced up and down, disconnecting Harry's brain for a few seconds. "That sounds so sneaky and fun! Who is this girl?"

Cho blinked in surprise. "I'm surprised you haven't already figured it out. It's obviously - "

Then Harry burped.

Harry whirled around, taking no note of whom he might be bumping into. Huh. But who could those girls have been talking about? Harry didn't really know the Slytherin girls well at all. There was Pansy, the pug-nosed girl that Draco - no, Drakon, right? - owned. Well, whether it was a Malfoy or a Snape, Harry didn't want any of those sloppy seconds. There was the tall, ugly girl. And the plain one. And the boy who looked like a girl - but that one didn't count. And yes, Harry now recalled, there was one fairly attractive girl in Slytherin that year - but what was her name?

Who was the mystery girl?

And the better question is, dear reader, is whether or not you have pieced together the intentionally ambiguous clues and figured it out, or whether you just don't even want to bother. Well, if that's your attitude, perhaps I won't tell you.

As Harry got his bearings, he quickly realized he was in that old chestnut, chapter eleven of book two. And there was Lockhart, beaming stupidly, and Harry's good chum Snivellus Snape, looking murderously at the foppish DADA Professor.

"Hey, Professor!"

Both Snape and Lockhart swivelled at Harry's interruption.

"No, I mean the Defense Professor. I want to challenge you to a duel!" He then winked at Snape, who looked extremely confused.

"A decent exhibition," Snape said, recovering quickly. "And a student couldn't hurt you, Gilderoy, could he? And you're expert enough to use non-lethal spells, true?"

"Um, yes," Lockhart sputtered nervously. "Obviously."

"Great!" Harry leaped on the stage. "Three two one let's duel! _Transfiguro Amphibio!"_

Instantly Lockhart changed into a small frog.

"Whoops!" Harry said insincerely. "I thought he would block it. Professor Snape, you believe me, don't you?"

Snape snorted. "As if you'd be capable of intentionally hurting anyone."

Harry chuckled and smiled. Good old Snape, always having his back.

And now Lockhart was a frog.

"Hmm, I don't know how to change him back," Harry admitted.

"I'm sure someone will get to it," Snape said absently, although it would turn out that everyone would conveniently "forget". But Lockhart would end up doing quite well for himself as the most handsome frog in the swamp near the Lake.

"Oh no!" Lavender wailed.

"Now who are we supposed to adore?" Parvati sobbed.

"Well," Harry said. "You could always try me."

"Excuse me?" Lavender said, shocked.

"I think I'm rather dashing, don't you?" Harry grinned at the two girls.

They both giggled.

"Hmm," Parvati said, looking over Harry carefully. "Perhaps I shall have to think on this."

"Good idea," Harry winked, then suddenly doubled over in pain. His stomach twisted in horrific agony and Harry suddenly began burping every few seconds or so.

And then the wave of images rushed past...

Quirrell crumbling into dust...

A party in the Quidditch locker room, with folks in various states of undress...

Harry riding a bloody dragon...

Vernon shouted angrily. "Damn it, Poodley! That bloody goblin Crumblesnuck will be here for dinner any minute! Up to your room!"

Flash. Flash. Flash.

Dumbledore saying nonsense, "Awniqke, drawven." Harry replied, "Huh?" And then it was gone.

McGonagall, furiously shouting, "Mr. Potter, leave the girl's dorm this instant!"

Someplace odd, a dark room, surrounded by glass orbs, which all begin shattering, showering Harry with glass.

And then Harry was in the Great Hall, standing on the head table, right in the beginning of what should have been the fifth book. Singing a song that he didn't recognize.

_"Cry me a river..."_

A song that didn't yet exist.

And then suddenly the throngs of girls watching him sing began to shriek and rip off their clothes.

And then Harry was back at the Sorting way back in the first book. The Hat looked over at Harry, sitting at the Gryffindor table.

"Potter!" It shouted in his head. "Summon me! Now!"

Acting by instinct alone, Harry Summoned the Hat to his hand. And then everything faded away.

* * *

Harry found himself sitting in a small hut, holding the Sorting Hat. And then a pair of pants jumped up from a chair and waved a pants leg.

"Ah, you're finally here," it said in Harry's head. "I'll go get him then."

The pair of pants fluttered out of the small hut. Harry made to follow, but the Hat cleared its mental throat.

"Don't go anywhere," it instructed. "This hut is keeping you from travelling in time."

"Oh," Harry said simply. "Um, what's the deal with the pants?"

The Hat chuckled. "Isn't it obvious? Those were Merlin's Pants?"

Harry goggled.

"Merlin's Pants?"

"Merlin's Pants."

The Hat was seeming a tad too smug at that point.

"But wait..." Harry said slowly. "Does that mean that the pants went to go get..?"

"Merlin, yes," an old man interrupted from the entrance of the hut. "Greetings, Harry Potter. Pleasure to finally meet you again."

* * *

END OF PART FOUR

Next time on _Harvey Potsler and the Temporal Digestive Tract_:

Harry frowned. "Now, how in the bloody hell can you SPOILER the SPOILER"?

Merlin chuckled. "I said the same thing myself when I was your age. But I had a far nicer beard."


	5. The Ol' Switcheroo

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by its respective owners, etc.

_Pre-note: In my rush of writing these days, I thought I'd toss out another short chapter of this utterly stupid story._

Temporal Indigestion  
Part Five:

"The Ol' Switcheroo"

* * *

_Previous, Harry had finally gone too far:_

_Harry had tricked Susan and Cho into dating both of them and possibly more, before planting the "seeds", if you will, with Parvati and Lavender way back in Book 2. But this angered the fabric of space and time which, to be frank, needs to get laid. So time began to unravel as Harry jumped through time, each a more chaotic jump than the last. Until, of course, he found himself back where it all began the first last time, with good ol' Merlin. So let's take a calming sip of something we can spit it out in surprise as Harry says:_

* * *

"Merlin Merlinson?" Harry asked in awe. "I've heard so much about you from my history books. They won't shut up about it!"

Merlin looked at the time traveling brat with a sour look. "Don't be a prat, Harry Potter. Despite what those books might imply, I am not my own father or even my own grandfather. And believe me, it almost happened several times. As almost happened with you if my Hat hadn't pulled you here in time."

"Wait just a minute!" Harry yelled loudly. "Are you saying that I was going to become my own father? With Mum? That's sick." He paled at a sudden horrific thought. "Or become my own _mother _with Dad? I don't know how that one's physically possible."

Merlin glanced over a shirt that was folded on the table. It jumped up and one of its arms slapped Harry hard across the face.

"Now, then," Merlin continued, as if Harry hadn't said something stupid. "Let's have a friendly conversation about time travel. You see, Harry, you are not the only one with a dangerous magical overexposure to the chaotic power of time magic."

Harry scratched his chin and glared at Merlin's shirt, before nodding thoughtfully. "Right, okay. I guess there are an awful lot of time travel stories about you. Living backwards through time was a popular one."

"Indeed," agreed Merlin. "Although that one came about because of how often I jumped throughout time - gave the impression I was moving backwards, but really it was all over the place. The reason I began shifting in time wasn't a Time Turner, but a Time Crystal - one which I constructed myself out of a regular Crystal."

"And then you put some Time in it?" Harry asked curiously.

Merlin laughed. "You sound like an idiot, Harry, but that's actually about right. You see, I adjusted the di-synchronous anti-compossibility post-determination scenario by merely manipulating the underlying ontological framework via a magical pre-relativistic superluminal tunnel. Simple, really."

"I... see," said Harry slowly. "So you put some Time in it."

"And unfortunately..." Merlin sighed deeply. "The Crystal began to absorb each paradox after each shift, building and building greatly, until I knew it would soon reach a point of horrific destruction. I ran into you in the future, and saw what happened there - you'll find out about that part in a little while, don't want to spoil it - and that is how I came up with my little plan."

"And the Hat?" Harry asked.

"That was part of the plan, of course," replied Merlin with a chuckle. "You see, I dissolved the Time Crystal into a liquid form, then had my clothing absorb that liquid, thereby containing the essence of the Time I put into it. Each item of clothing shunting itself randomly throughout time, leaving me a bit naked, but I soon figured out a way to get my clothing back: A null time space. This hut exists slightly outside of time, which allows my clothes to come back with all that extra time energy sluiced off.

"I was trying to ignore your nudity," Harry admitted. "But what about my problem with moving through time? It seems like the only thing this did was get you your things back."

"True," Merlin said, while slipping on his robes. He put the Hat back on his head and sighed. "Ah, King Arthur, it is good to hear your voice."

"What?" Harry started. "Did you just call the Sorting Hat King Arthur? After... the king?"

Merlin gave him a look. "Don't be an arse, Harry. King Arthur wasn't real. That was just a legend based on someone misunderstanding me talking about my hat." He laughed. "Obviously. Wizards are nutters, haven't you heard?"

"I have," said Harry with a frown. "I'm seeing it now, after all. And how are we even talking, anyway? Didn't they have a different language back then?"

"Again, Harry, stop being obtuse. Obviously it's a touch of Magic."

Harry nodded. That made sense. "Right, sorry. So... how do I fix my own problem? Can you just... magic the Time Turner out of me?"

Merlin shook his head sadly. "I am afraid not. You see, Time is now a part of you, forever and always. The magic has been absorbed by you, and the Time Turner has long since disappeared during one of your many jaunts. No, your only hope is to resolve the paradox. Or die, of course."

Harry frowned. "Now, how in the bloody hell can you resolve the paradox?"

Merlin chuckled. "I said the same thing myself when I was your age. But I had a far nicer beard."

"I don't happen to like beards on teenagers," riposted Harry, although this was decidedly untrue. He even liked them on girls. "But you resolved your own paradox by... putting time on your clothing. Can I do the same thing?"

"Of course not!" Merlin gasped in horror. "Such fine material! It would probably make a worse mess things than it already is. No, you merely need to learn how to _control_ your shifts and stop making things unstable. Stop with the paradoxes and start with the _anti-paradoxes_. And it's not time, it's Time."

Harry smacked himself. "Sorry, you're right. That was foolish of me. Now... what's an anti-paradox?"

Merlin began to laugh uproariously. "What's an anti-paradox?" He began to shake with hilarity so hard that tears began to squirt from his eyes. "Highly amusing!" Merlin finally settled down and wiped his eyes. "I needed that amusement, Harry. Thank you. Now, off you go! I have a date with a tree!"

"A tree?" Harry asked, and then Merlin pushed him out of the hut with a magical shove. As Harry sped away from the hut, he saw what seemed like an infinite line of huts stretched in all directions, up and down, back and forward, sideways and throughout and throughin. In one glorious instant, Harry could see the entire timeline, and it made an eerie amount of sense.

"Oh, wait!" Harry said with a grin. "I get it!"

* * *

_SHIFT_

Harry sat inside his cupboard, writing furiously on some notes, a floating light bobbing near his shoulder. He had so many ideas, so very many perverted notions..

_Point One: Something naked with Parvati and Lavender_  
_Point Two: Something naked with Susan and Cho and whichever Slytherin they were talking about_  
_Point Three: Maybe Fleur somehow?_

Harry crossed that one out - he couldn't speak French. Unless...

_Point Three (adjusted): Learn French, then Fleur._

Harry nodded and grinned. All right then! He had his three critical points of importance, now all he needed to do was figure them out without causing any paradoxes. Simple enough, right?

* * *

_SHIFT_

"Hermione, would you take a look at this plan?" Harry asked as they walked from Slughorn's party.

Hermione accepted the paper and immediately slapped him. "Harry, I'm not going to help you do something perverted with a bunch of girls! The French one, maybe."

Harry rubbed his cheek and frowned at his so-called friend. "A real genius friend would use her smarts to help me out."

"I'll slap you again!" Hermione told him. "You're being an arse. Why don't you ask Ron for help, I'm sure he'll be happy to assist in your little perversions."

"Are you two... together?" asked Harry hesitantly. "I mean, I don't actually know."

Hermione gave him an odd look. "Yes, of course. But that doesn't mean he's not a pervert." She giggled slightly. "Sometimes that works out alright when..."

"I get it!" Harry interrupted quickly, holding up his hands. "So you won't help with my time travel plan, fine. I guess I'll ask someone else. Although I don't really know Ravenclaws other than Cho..."

"What about Luna?" Hermione huffed in a disapproving manner. "She'll probably help you."

"Luna..." Harry said slowly, rubbing his chin. "And she is... who again?"

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "Are you being serious?"

"I've been traveling through time," Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I assumed you knew."

"I thought that was all settled," she replied worriedly. "What's the last thing you remember? I mean, what year was it?"

"Well, I've been all over the place," said Harry. "But originally it was right after the Tournament. Speaking of which," he grabbed the paper back from Hermione. "That reminds me. _Try to keep Cedric from dying_. Should be able to do that and still be with Cho, right?"

"So... hold a moment," Hermione tapped her chin thoughtfully. "You don't actually know about your current relationship situation, do you? This plan is to _achieve _what you want, isn't it?"

Harry grinned at her. "Precisely! So will you help me figure it out?"

Hermione sighed and then took the paper back from him. "Fine, you'll only screw things up if you try it yourself. But first, let's add few things to the list."

She jotted down a few things as Harry watched:

_Hermione's Actually Relevant Notes_

_Defeat Voldemort_

_Don't Die_

_Don't Let Anyone Die that's on the good side of things (Weasleys, Gryffindors in general, Harry's empty headed tarts, Professors, Lupin, Snuffles)_

_Learn a few bloody spells for once_

_Befriend Luna and Neville_

_Cure Ron's Magical Mutated Halitosis by getting to it early_

Hermione underlined this last one several times. "Make _absolutely certain _you do number six, even though it doesn't seem as important. All of our lives depend on it. Speak to Madame Pomfrey in our first year and she'll handle it."

"Right," said Harry, a bit worried at the manic look of his friend. "So those are good notes. Probably a good idea not to forget to defeat Voldemort. See you soon, then!" He grabbed back the paper and smiled widely.

* * *

_SHIFT_

"Say Ron," Harry whispered to his eating friend as they watched Quirrell collapse on the floor. "Do you know someone named Neville or Luna?"

"Neville's right over there," Ron pointed. "And I know a girl Ginny's age named Luna - she lives near us. Luna Lovegood, I think."

"Got it," said Harry, and absentmindedly set Quirrell's turban on fire.

* * *

Next time on _Harvey Potsler and the Temporal Digestive Tract_:

"I've got it!" Harry said with sudden, joyous realization. "A underground pornography ring! It's foolproof!"

Hermione slapped him.


End file.
